


In Sickness and In Health

by Ane_Rhapsodos



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Pre-Crisis Core - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 14:51:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ane_Rhapsodos/pseuds/Ane_Rhapsodos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People tend to notice when the General of SOLDIER doesn't make an appearance for an entire day. Few actually think to investigate the matter. But then Investigating is what Turks are good at.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sickness and In Health

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AssortedGeekery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssortedGeekery/gifts).



> Amusingly enough, I roleplay as Sephiroth and my main partner is a Tseng roleplayer. Additionally I was down with a bad sinus infection when I got the prompts. Plenty of inspiration. =P I haven't writting actual fic in a long while, but maybe this will get me back on the wagon, hm?

If there was one thing a person got used to being raised by a sociopath, it was not expecting help from others. As a child, Sephiroth had only ever gotten sick from vaccines and chemicals Hojo treated him with, and any injuries he received were left to heal on their own unless they were serious. The first person to ever try to treat him further... well, Sephiroth never saw him again after that. It had been conditioned into him that if he wasn't at risk of dying he should just deal with it on his own.

 

Thankfully... few things any more were capable of getting him in even a moderately serious condition. So maybe it wasn't so odd that despite having friends... Sephiroth had been unsurprised not to get any texts or calls. And that he had most definitely not expected someone to actually come to his apartment.

 

As miserable as he’d felt waking up that morning, he’d never even gotten out of bed, trying to sleep it off. The attempt had failed, as the hours passed Sephiroth had only felt worse each time he stirred. At the moment he was half-twisted on the bed, sheets pulled up to his nose in an attempt to feel warmer without aggravating his roiling stomach further.

 

If there was one bodily function Sephiroth hated above all others it was vomiting, and he put every effort into avoiding it at any given time.

 

“Sephiroth?” Pale green eyes slowly opened, registering both his name being spoken and the way the bed was dipping with the weight of someone. Why hadn’t he heard Tseng come in...? “You look miserable, Seph...” The hand on his cheek felt cool, something he would’ve appreciated earlier when he was overheating.

 

“You should go...”

 

Tseng shook his head, chuckling softly. “Whatever you’ve got I probably caught the second I came in the room. Now hush and let me take care of you for once.” Leaning down to press a kiss against the taller man’s forehead had a purpose beyond just affection, it helped him guess at how high his fever was. “Have you eaten anything at all today?”

 

“No...” Even the thought of food made his stomach flip, forcing him to close his mako-lit eyes for a moment.

 

“Nausea, huh?” Brushing some sweaty strands away from the young SOLDIER’s forehead Tseng offered him another smile when he reopened his eyes. “I’ll go make you some cold tea to settle it.” No matter how sick Sephiroth was, with his heightened metabolism he needed to eat _something_. Missing even a single meal had a noticeable effect on him, missing two and being sick on top of it was just asking to stay sick longer.

 

Pale features twisted into an expression of distaste, but he didn’t audibly protest. Doing things he didn’t want to was something he’d become accustomed to from a young age. Complaint wasn’t usually something to pass his lips.

 

Setting the kettle on, Tseng returned with some extra bedding, knowing the younger man would just throw it off later. He was amusingly restless when he had a fever, always shifting around both when conscious and asleep seeking a more comfortable position. A far contrast to his usual tendency to lay still and quiet while he slept.

 

“Don’t you have work to do...?” Sephiroth finally asked, trying once again to get Tseng to leave despite appreciating being taken care of.

 

“Don’t you?” Tseng retorted with a raised brow. “I have nothing that can’t wait until later, Seph. Stop trying to get me to leave, you know I’m just as stubborn as you are.”

 

Sephiroth grumbled quietly, but appreciated the blanket thrown over him all the same as another wave of shivering wracked his body. He hated feeling cold, even more so when he knew it was only because his fever was so high.

 

“Rest...” Tseng kissed the side of his head, tucking the blanket in around him. “I’ll wake you when the tea is ready.”

 

He didn’t, once the silver-haired SOLDIER was asleep Tseng couldn’t bring himself to wake him with just how tired he looked. It was over an hour before he woke on his own as the Turk set a cool wet cloth back onto his forehead. “Feeling any better?”

 

“A little...” Now he felt somehow both warm and cold, the cloth on his forehead drawing attention to a headache he hadn’t even noticed he had.

 

“Think you can sit up and drink your tea?” His lips quirked when instead of responding Sephiroth just slowly sat up. As the cloth fell he caught it and set it on the back of his neck instead. Though his fever had come down slightly, it was still high even for the younger man’s normal body temperature. Tseng counted himself lucky to be one of the few people Sephiroth trusted enough to sleep around. The man was paranoid as any Turk - the placement of his bed was an example of that. What with it being in the furthest room from the front door and placed behind the bedroom door so that any intruder would have to fully come into the room.

 

Not that anyone had yet to dare to do such a thing with less than friendly intentions. Sephiroth’s reputation was daunting enough to keep such a thing from happening even if someone did get access to the floor his apartment was on.

 

“I had Reno grab someone for you from the Complex,” the tone of Tseng’s voice had catslit eyes watching him warily as he ceased tentatively sipping at cold tea for a moment. When a small plushie with fur the same color as his own pale hair was held up, Sephiroth tried very hard not to just snatch it from him. Slim fingers ran over the soft fur idly, taking some comfort in the presence of the only real toy he’d ever had.

 

“...Thank you, Tseng.” Very few people knew Sephiroth had the small fox plushie. Tseng because he had been there when he received it - and Reno because the redhead had a very bad habit of sneaking into other people’s bedrooms when they weren’t there.

 

Sephiroth didn't understand himself why it was comforting to have it, still socially stunted in some ways despite the efforts of others to 'educate' him in the sort of things most people took for granted. The sort of things he'd missed having spent the first thirteen years of his life without any exposure to non-educational media or anyone under the age of twenty-four.

 

Tseng just smiled, having learned years ago to read between the lines when Sephiroth spoke. The thanks was for more than just Solven, it was for caring enough to check on him, for looking after him.... and for being the first to love him as who he was rather than just  _what_ he was.

 

“Now get better quickly so you can take care of  _me_ when I get felled by whatever you were contaminated with.” Sephiroth snorted, shaking his head slightly in amusement at the teasing words.

  
_“Tseng....”_

**Author's Note:**

> I cut this even closer this year than last year. I didn't break 1k until three and a half hours before the submission deadline... Last year I finished it the night before the submission date. My muses are such bratty things. Submitting three hours before the deadline is pretty damn close!


End file.
